Written From Inside

Pt. 1

An idea that looks bold
It looks bold because it's so inviting
Inviting like an open room made of polished walnut
Like a new door I've never tried
The door is turquoise blue with gold trim
The silver keyhole contains a bronze filigree key
The lime green trees are painted in dancing letters
Can I dance with the man who stares hard when I look down?
My lips pursed, myself like a weed growing wild in a field of wooden statues of fawns
I'm lost over the man from Neptune
I'm afraid I wanted to push, push him away
I got so scared from the hidden agendas surrounding me, walls without gates, no hawks perch there
Only swollen cheeks, unforgivable sins, drinking in the dark, flirting with ex lovers, lying in a comatose state of frozen turmoil
Falling down and up again
Being touched by strangers
Being watched and held and loved in odd ways
Missing my chance because I'm too busy living

Pt. 2

Perhaps the boldness is bold because it doesn't involve anyone else
To boldly find out how the nastiness enfolded my guts and how the crude bones I wasn't born with climbed into my body
Sometimes I see myself, but mostly I only run into the scarred letters ranked across my skin
And when I have false confidence in myself I know I am riding for the gulch
The false confidence, although dangerous, does come just in time sometimes though
Because once the intertwining begins, particularly with an oceanic species of octopus, it becomes hard to disentangle
In order to survive now I must let go the lines I keep picking up and - breathe - let it come naturally
How can I be pumped full of oxygen for so many hours?
How can I be ventilated by iron lung and learn to breathe again, time and time again?
Go down to the salty depths and pick out a mantra, but return to the surface.


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